


soft hands

by sengangare



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Smut, the lewd stuff happens when theyre both adults so no pedo here thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sengangare/pseuds/sengangare
Summary: Four times Angela Ziegler and Fareeha Amari hold hands at four different points in their lives and in very different situations.





	soft hands

**Author's Note:**

> the numbers represent their ages at the time. written in 35 minutes as an exercise and will edit later when i'm not at school. first three parts are pg13, last is M, so you can skip that if you want to.

1/6

Angela doesn’t like babies. 

She finds them smelly and annoying and they break her toys with their small hands and they scream and make a mess of her books with their sticky fingers, and Angela just doesn’t like them. She’s happy she’s an only child, that her parents’ careers are more important than giving her a sibling, and she’s happy with talking to adults and dazzle them with the things she learns in school. A baby can’t understand how smart she is, how easy it was for her to learn how to count to 200 while her whole class struggled, how she’s already fluent in reading and can _almost_ write.

So when she’s ordered to look after her mom’s friend’s child who is just a baby she pouts and crosses her arms and stomps off to the bathroom, slamming and looking the door behind her. She hears the raspy laughter of her mom’s friend as she slumps against the door, hears how small and clumsy steps grows louder and how something puts its weight against the door with a yell of “ah-gel-ah!” She doesn’t like it and all she wants is to play games on her pad and drink juice and not have to look after a baby.

She’s a big girl, and not a child.

The baby on the other side starts banging on the door and jumbles a language she doesn’t understand and if Angela was a cartoon character she would have steam coming from her ears. A shriek breaks the babble as she hears how the baby’s mom picks her up and shushes her, and the second after her mother calls for her to _come out, Böhnli. Fareeha isn’t scary, I promise._

The idea that she would be afraid of the small child is stupid, so Angela stands up and throws the door open and tells her mother sharply that she’s not afraid, that she doesn’t want the baby to ruin her stuff and scream.

“Ah-gel-ah!” The child hollers happily from her mother’s embrace and starts wiggling around, her small and chubby arms reaching for the older girl, and Angela lunges forward to circle her arms around her mother’s hips and burry her face in her stomach. A soft hand pets her short, blonde hair and the same raspy laughter from before makes her angle her face slightly to look at her mom’s friend.

She has long, black hair that’s straight and shiny and silky, skin that’s practically glowing on her smiling face, and a tattoo under her eye. She’s shorter than her mother, but Angela knows she is a soldier and that she’s someone she wants to impress. The woman smiles at her and says something to her mother in English, before turning her attention back to Angela.

“My german isn’t very good,” the woman tells her as she crouches, her arms keeping her child back as she tries to move to Angela, “but what is wrong? You don’t like Fareeha?”

Angela suddenly feels sudden shame, and she puts her face back in her mother’s soft stomach.

“That’s not it,” she mumbles, “I don’t want her to ruin my stuff or scream and babies do that! They do that all the time at my school.”

Her mother sighs softly and her friend laughs again.

“I understand, but Fareeha has no dirt on her friends and she don’t scream. Me and your mom has business to deal do and since you’re such a big girl, I would be very happy with you if you could watch Fareeha.”

She angles her face to the side again and looks at the baby, who is staring back at her with wide eyes and open mouth. She _is_ a big girl, after all, and Fareeha is a baby, so maybe it would only be right if she helped her mother out.

“Okay,” she says softly and lets her arms drop from around her mother, “I’ll help you, Miss Amari. But only if you promise she won’t scream.”

Her mother shushes her softly and apologizes for her daughter’s rudeness, and Miss Amari releases her kicking child to stand up. She stumbles up to Angela on shaky legs and fists her shirt in chubby hands; the fingernails dig into her stomach.

“Thank you, Chnpoi, you’re such a good girl for helping us out.” Her mother’s praise brings a shine and a happy blush to her cheeks, and she tells them that she’ll read her writing homework for the baby because she got an A on it and her teacher said it was very good.

Both adults thank her, and she takes the small chubby hands holding her shirts and bends them away, but takes Fareeha’s right hand into her own and tells her seriously, “I’m gonna read you something I wrote. It’s really good, and my teacher loved it.”

Fareeha doesn’t understand her, but looks at her with starry eyes and shrieks happily.

-.-.-

15/20

“The cap’n’s kid is here, by the way. Did you see her?”

Angela is hunched over a medical text as thick as her thigh, and only grunts in response without really listening to the words spoken. She doesn’t have time to talk to diligents like Jesse McCree, but she’s the only one stationed on this base in his age and he seems to think that makes them immediate friends. It’s annoying, especially when she has a big exam coming up and she doesn’t feel even slightly ready for it.

“She’s as tall as a tree now. Towers over Ana, says she’s gonna out-grow Reinhardt. I dunno about that, but she’s mighty tall at least.”

She jots down a short sentence about the possible treatments for a disease she’s never heard of before, and looks up as Jesse puts his booted feet comfortably on her textbook.

“Very interesting, I’m sure, but can you not?”

He grins at her, his smile still boyish and his beard-growth spotty on her chin. 

“Can I not what?”

Pushing his boots away with a little more force than necessary, she glares at him and earns laughter in return. She tries to continue her studies as he laughs and tells her to _never change, Ang._

He continues talking to her without receiving and answer, but she doesn’t tell him off since he’s feet remain off her books and she’s excellent at tuning out certain things. The droning tone of his voice melts into the background, and it’s almost pleasant. Like a white noise, like the constant sound of the engine of an airplane. Angela almost likes it, highlights a certain sentence she needs to look closer at.

“She was with us when the cap’n taught me to shoot better, and holy smokes is her aim good. Hit the targets square in the center, boom boom boom! Amazing. You just know that lil squirrel is gonna be a mighty fine soldier one day.”

“I really hope not,” a voice interrupts, clear and raspy and full of authority. The two young adults stand up abruptly to salute, and Jesse’s stupid cowboy hat falls down behind his back. Angela sees how a tall, lanky teen laughs behind her hand; brown eyes mischievously gazing at Jesse. 

“Good job, McCree,” she says and accented words, her golden skin, her long ebony hair tells that she’s Ana’s daughter. Angela dimly remembers a small baby long ago, who didn’t scream and hollered happily when she touched Angela’s hair.

Jesse huffs, crosses his arms.

“Shut up, Fareeha.”

The second-in-command strides up to them with long steps – her coat fluttering behind her, her hair falling like water around her shoulders – and the lanky girl behind her stumbles after. Dark eyes look over at Angela, and the straight posture Fareeha had sported before shrinks into awkwardness. She rubs her neck, averts her eyes.

“Miss Ziegler,” Ana starts before her mouth quirks, her eyes gets a glint of mischievousness to them, “or should I say Doctor Ziegler?”

She corrects Ana that she’s not yet a doctor, that she has a few years left, and Ana laughs warmly, waves it away and says _no matter, you’re better than our certified doctors anyway._ They talk for a few minutes of the status of the watchpoint’s med-bay, what can be improved, what needs to be bought before the majority of all agents will arrive.  


Fareeha clears her throat suddenly and tugs at her mother’s sleeve, and Ana’s mouth opens in remembrance. 

“Oh yes! My daughter was practically begging me to introduce the two of you, so Angela, let me present my lovely daughter Fareeha. You’ve met before, when Fareeha was still in diapers and you were barely out of yours.”

The tan skin on Fareeha’s nose turns dark and her eyes turn panicked, and she hisses something to her mother in Arabic with eyes flickering to and away from Angela. The commander hushes her daughter and takes a step to the side, says something with a sudden and sharp tone, and Fareeha takes a step forward while clearing her throat.

“Uh, hi! I’m Fareeha, but I guess you, you know, already know that.” She clears her throat again, and Angela notices how she’s already a head taller than her. The teen continues shakily, her words rising towards the end like she’s asking a question, “and I just wanted to say that you really inspire me?”

“Thank you, Fareeha, it really means a lot.” She reaches forward to shake hands, and Fareeha’s hand is a little sweaty but firm. “Ana never stops talking about you, so I’ve heard a lot of things.”

Her hand relaxes, but Fareeha’s stays firm around her own.

“Only good things I hope. And, uh, that’s all I wanted. To say. Mom let’s go!”

Fareeha turns around and storms away, her shoulder slamming into the door frame on accident as she disappears, and Ana laughs again. Jesse grins at her, sits down again, puts his folded hands on his stomach.

“It seems our beautiful doctor has our little Fareeha flustered.”

“Yes, I suspect my dear daughter has a liking to pretty girls, and this just confirms it. She’s been bugging me all morning about meeting you, and now that she did she storms off. What a little rascal.”

Angela sits down, slightly uncomfortable of a girl so many years younger than her harboring a crush on her, but smiles kindly anyway.

“She seems nice, Ana.”

Ana beams happily, puts her hands behind her back. She’s practically radiating how proud she is.

“She’s a good girl. But this little visit was purely for entertainment, and now I have to go back to work. Fareeha’s father will soon come pick her up, so I need to make sure she has all her stuff packed. Have a good day.”

The door clicks shut behind her as she leaves and the silence that follows is just momentarily, as Jesse starts yapping about his training with Reyes and the girls he had sending him lewd pictures and his unhappiness with the way his beard is growing. 

Angela goes back to her text book, says nothing.

-.-.-

22/27

The club is pulsing with life and music.

Long shadows hides the people relaxing in booths and the dimly lit dancefloor is nothing more than a mass of moving bodies. Angela puts down her drink and looks at them in boredom. It looks nothing like dancing women and more like an ocean being moved by a raging storm, as not two people stand in the same spot for more than a second.  


She wants to join them, to feel hands on her hips and breasts pressed against her own, but the woman she had been taking with her refused to dance and preferred to spend their date in a booth with her mouth going constantly, her hands waving, her attention on herself.

Angela sighs, picks up her drink again, and takes a large mouthful. 

Her date for the evening was beautiful, but incredibly boring as soon as she left the hospital. Their chemistry in the OR was undeniable – where they worked as a team, as two halves of a whole, where flirty words and fleeting touches felt natural – but the air between them now was so stale it was like they’ve never talked before. She’s growing older, and the nagging feeling in her stomach that reminded her that she’s alone had made her agree to a drink or two with the underlying tone of something more after, but all she feels now is boredom and regret.

“-- and so the chief asked me if I could come up with a solution, which I _of course_ did, and that’s how I landed the position of Chief of Pediatrics.” Her date stops for a second, takes a swig of her beer, and smiles. “But enough about me. Should we go home to me for some drinks?”

Angela likes having meaningless sex, but the atmosphere between them isn’t tempting or full of lust, so she hides her clenched mouth behind her glass and searches for a reason not to.

“Listen, I think we should just keep this pro--”

A soft hand presses against her shoulder blade, and Angela feels the heat of a body beside her. She looks up and thinks for a split second that Ana Amari is standing beside her.

“Angela! Hi! It’s been too long!” Fareeha has grown broader, but is still tall and slim. Her hair is shorter, her hand has a long scar on it, and on her cheek is a tattoo as black as ink. 

She has grown beautiful over the years, and something flutters inside of Angela’s stomach.

“Fareeha,” she breathes and stands up. The younger woman towers over her, and she’s nice and warm and smells nice as she engulfs Angela in a tight hug.  
Fareeha’s breath against her ear sends tingles down her spine, and Angela shivers.

“Want me to bail you out of this situation? Say you’ll join me outside when I pull away.”

Her date looks irritated as Fareeha stands up straight; her fingers tapping on her glass and her brow furrowed in suspicion.  


Fareeha’s hand moves to her waist, and Angela shivers again.

“Excuse me, but we’re bus--” her date begins, but Angela interrupts her suddenly as she asks Fareeha to join her outside. She grabs her coat, greets her date quickly goodbye and says they’ll _see each other at the hospital._

Her hand is taken by Fareeha’s scared one as she leads her outside, to the right, and into a small and dark alley.

The fresh air is cleansing, and Angela takes a couple deep breathes as Fareeha leans back against the brick building and fishes a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket.

As the shock of _Fareeha_ helping her sinks away, she turns around and meets dark amber eyes and the glow of a cigarette. Licking her lips, she feels herself suddenly being nervous.

“Thank you for that,” she says and moves closer. Fareeha’s lips curls around her cigarette before she reaches it towards Angela, who accepts it.

“No problem, Doc. Saw you were looking a little uncomfortable, so I thought I’d step in.” She laughs and looks away, and the soft light that seeps into the alley highlights her straight nose, her plump lips. “At first I wasn’t sure if it really was you, since I didn’t see you a lot as a kid, but then Jesse told me that you were on a date-night so I took a chance.”

The alcohol she had too quickly ingested suddenly sets in, and she feels flirtatious and warm and nervous. Fareeha is a stranger, but a beautiful one, and she smells nice and she’s beautiful and Angela can’t help herself.

“So, taking chances means taking a risk. Did it pay off?”

Their fingers brush as she hands the cigarette back, and Fareeha’s right eyebrow quirks as their eyes meet.

“I think so, yes.”

They stand like that for a little while, just looking and smoking, before Angela feels the need to grab and pull and kiss, and she decides to move to stand beside Fareeha instead of in front of her. The building is cool against her jumper, and she crosses her arms across her chest.

“So, Jesse's here tonight?”

“Nah, but he’s a quick texter, and I _highly_ doubt he would fit in on a party full of lesbians.”

A laughter bubbles from Angela’s mouth, and as she turns to sneak a peek at the taller woman, she meets Fareeha’s eyes.

She swallows nervously and licks her lips. Fareeha’s eyes follows her tongue, and she mimicks the motion.

“So what are you doing here tonight? I think I heard Ana talking about you being stationed in Kairo?”

Fareeha tells her shortly that she was on leave for a week to go to a wedding, that she needed some time away from all doting couples and heterosexuals, that she just wanted to release some steam. She throws the butt of her cigarette deeper into the alley, laces her fingers with Angela’s.  


Angela doesn’t notices as they lean closer until they’re almost nose to nose, until she feels a breath that smells of beer and cigarette on her lips, until Fareeha’s eyes starts slipping closed and a thumb strokes the outside of her finger.

“Why are you here, though? You didn’t seem to be interested in that woman in your booth.”

Fareeha promises a night with no strings without saying the words, and the doctor knows that what happens in the next following hours won’t mean anything. They both are adults, they both want the same thing, and Angela takes a decision, says “I want to blow off some steam,” and closes the distance between them.

-.-.-

31/36

Fareeha hushes her with a soft kiss to her thigh, and Angela writhes and feels tears leak from her eyes as the pleasure becomes _too much._

Firm arms circled around her thighs keep her hips flat against the matress, lips seek out the sensitive place between her legs that pulses and aches, and Angela moves one of her hands into the soft tangle of black hair that adorns Fareeha's head. Fareeha hums in encouragement when Angela clenches her hand into a tight fist, speeds up her tongue and moves her hands down the skin of her legs to her hips and presses her fingers softly against the bone.

A pitiful groans slips from Angela’s lips before she bites down on the knuckles of the unoccupied hand. She’s loud and always has been, and it’s embarrassing to be so vocal when her lover is so silent and still, but her attempt to stay silent is quickly ended as Fareeha lifts her head for a second to look at her, leaving her aching and wanting. Her hips pushes against the hands holding them down, seeks closeness and warmth and the mounting pleasure now slipping away from her, drawing an amused chuckle from Fareeha’s grinning mouth. 

A soft hand replaces the tongue that was there second ago to keep her on the edge as Fareeha crawls up her body. Angela swallows and bites her lips and throws her head from side to side as pleas of mercy tumble from her mouth, and Fareeha leans down to kiss them away. 

The hand touching her moves to take her hand instead and Angela feels pressure as Fareeha lines up the toy she has strapped between her legs to her entrance.  


Their joined hands are moved up to rest beside Angela’s head, while Fareeha’s other hand gently moves a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Fareeha tells her with a low murmur as she pushes inside, her breath cool against Angela’s gasping mouth, her hand firm in Angela’s shaking one.

Words have escaped her and she begs in return; calls Fareeha’s name like a prayer, like a psalm. She’s been on the edge of release for what felt like hours, days, months, and Fareeha had kept her there with soft hands and skilled lips, and her muscles ached and her head swam and she was _so close._

Fareeha’s hips speed up as Angela’s cries grow in strength and frequency, and Angela forces her eyes open to look at her lover’s face.

 _You’re so beautiful_ , she thinks as a bead of sweat falls from Fareeha’s sharp nose, _I love you so much_.  


The following thrust is a little harder as Fareeha’s face turns bashful, and Angela realizes that she must’ve said her thoughts out loud. She doesn’t care, Fareeha deserves to know how good she is, how beautiful and fantastic and perfect she is, and Angela sees it as a blessing that _she’s_ the one that gets to tell her.

She comes quickly and sharply, her hips canting up to meet Fareeha’s and stays close, her legs shaking and eyes pressed close and head swimming of love and adoration and images of Fareeha Fareeha _Fareeha._ It comes and goes in waves, feels like it’s going on forever, and she comes down to Fareeha kissing her forehead and pushing the hair plastered to her face away. The toy is discarded on the floor shortly after and they fall in each-other’s embraces, hands stroking languidly, hearts beating in what must’ve been tandem.

She had taken care of Fareeha first and knows very well that she on most nights only can take one really good orgasm, but the temptation is too great and she slides a hand down Fareeha’s flat stomach, pulls her head back to search for a sign of consent.

A kiss as soft as silk meets her lips, a large hand takes her own as her unoccupied hand meets heat and wetness, and Angela feels good.

She feels okay.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: https://twitter.com/KillMeHwasa  
> tumblr: https://skriklim.tumblr.com/
> 
> a kudos or comment is free and cool


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